


Dad

by blessedthrice



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Comedy, Connie Springer - Freeform, Eren Yeager - Freeform, Erwin Smith - Freeform, Gen, Other, Scouts, jean kirstein - Freeform, stupid, survey corps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessedthrice/pseuds/blessedthrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day in the Scouts--or so Jean thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dykejonze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dykejonze/gifts).



> this is the dumbest story ive ever written lol

Jean is paring an apple when it happens.

It’s a Thursday morning, and the sun is hot and bright in a clear blue sky. They’ve all been thudding numbly around the barracks since roll call at dawn, because Commander Erwin is gone to Sina on business and Captain Levi went with him _thank Rose_ , and Hanji-whats-their-fucking-title is gloriously distracted by some kind of glow worm they found on their last expedition and Squad Leader Sniffs is off somewhere probably huffing new recruits and so there’s no one around to make them run laps or climbs big ass trees or salute fifty thousand fucking times just for the hell of it. 

Jean and Connie are taking advantage of the down time to have a couple cups of coffee a piece, along with some sugared cakes that Sasha pilfered from the kitchens. _A true hero_ , Jean decides as he shoves an entire cake in his mouth at once and practically swallows it whole. They’re not supposed to have cake. They’re not supposed to have any fun at all, he doesn’t think, unless you count sweeping the floor a hundred times or running seven miles in the goddamn-fucking-cold-ass rain as a good time, and he doesn’t.

Him and Connie have just gotten comfortable enough to start in on their favorite past-time--talking shit on that fuckjones Yeager, when Bertolt wanders over with fresh apples him and Armin found out beyond the training ring. He gets to peeling almost instantly, his stomach giving him a big thumbs up because it’s been porridge and weak tea for like ten fucking weeks and if he has another raisin loaf his colons gonna explode for sure. 

All in all, the mornings going pretty okay and Jean is even feeling somewhat hopeful that he can get some alone time before lunch to yank off to that tin type Reiner gave him when it happens:

A ruckus from the stables draws everyone’s attention and it’s the Commander and Captain Levi, come back from the capital a day early. Jean audibly groans, yanking Connie off the grass and stalking over to where all the little bootlickers have fallen into a series of neat parallel lines as their superiors approach. He’s already bored and has half his apple stuffed lazily into his mouth, the other clutched in his hand with his pocket knife. Commander Erwin struts towards them with all the grandeur of a fucking pageant singer, his watchdog fresh on his heels, and Jean has to restrain himself from giving them both a dainty little finger waggle or an obnoxiously enthusiastic salute, settling instead for rolling his eyes super big so that only Connie can see. They both burst into giggles like two _dignified_ young men committed to a life in the military, nudging and pushing to get in line before they’re both put on latrine duty for being out of order.

“Good morning, Scouts,” says the Commander, and Connie kicks Jean’s heel just hard enough that he curses out loud and a few of their peers glance over their shoulders pointedly. Jean grimaces, reaching over to yank Connie by the sleeve and shove him into Sasha’s admittedly decent backside when fuckjones Yeager steps forward from the crowd, stupid face all screwed up like he’s just waiting for their superiors to ejaculate directly into his huge, open mouth. Jean freezes, hand clenched on Connie’s upper arm.

“Good morning, dad!”

_Dad._

Jean thinks that he’s hearing things. He blinks, looks left. Then right. Armin is standing a few rows ahead of them, red splotches crawling out his collar and up onto his ears. Nearby, Mikasa is staring at Eren in horror, hands held out in front of her as if she can stuff the words back into his mouth just by pulling him back into line with the rest of them. Ymir stands directly to his left, struggling to school the only shit eating grin he’s ever seen on her typically stoic face.

He let’s go of Connie, eyes wide as a titan’s maw.

“That’ll do, Eren,” Erwin says, and fuckjones Yeager stumbles weakly back into line with the rest of them, looking like a titan’s just offered him a blumpkin.

Jean’s apple makes a thud as it hits the grass.

He can’t really stop himself, and really, why would he try?

His laughter is somewhat contained at first, bubbling up like a cork’s been popped on his insides. It progresses to hysteria pretty rapidly though, and before he knows it he’s on the grass with his apple, doubled over and rolling back and forth like a dropped turtle. He doesn’t stop, even as the rest of his teammates stand looking down on the spectacle he’s making, some of them struggling not to smile and some of them outright peeved. Connie’s kicking him in the boot to _get off the fucking grass, dude_ when a miniscule shadow blocks the sunlight from his watering eyes.

“Kirstein. Get off the damn ground and get ahold of yourself. That’s an _order_ ,” Captain Levi drawls, standing over him looking about one thousand shades of unimpressed. Jean lets out a few more howls and an _oh, shit_ before he crawls up onto all fours, rising slowly from the grass like a war hero from the belly of a beast, clutching both sides of his stomach with his hands. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, and he dabs them away on the backs of his sleeves. His mouth twitches as he makes eye contact with his superior, struggling to wipe the smile off his face.

“Do you have something you want to say, Kirstein?”

Jean doesn’t miss a beat.

“No, _mom_. I don’t have anything I want to say.”

Jean spends the rest of the day scrubbing every latrine in the barracks with a rag and a bucket of warm vinegar. He doesn’t regret a thing, though, especially not when he recalls in a fresh burst of giggles the mortified look on Commander Erwin’s face when Eren Yeager accidentally called him _dad._


End file.
